


Cross My Heart

by Psuedo_sweetheart



Category: Ebon Light (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedo_sweetheart/pseuds/Psuedo_sweetheart
Summary: “If you keep flirting with me, I will be forced to punish you.”Haron pushes the wrong woman, at exactly the right time.  But- the right time for who?  Which of them is the one who's really changed by the end of the night?
Relationships: Alenca Goffil | Main Character/Haron Milirose, Laceaga Darhal/Alenca Goffil | Main Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Thalia grabs Haron’s chin, an intent look on her face as she stares him down. 

“If you keep flirting with me, I will be forced to punish you.”

Haron’s mouth is hanging open, though he doesn’t have a single word left in his head, much less upon his lips, unable to think past the warmth of her skin on his. The only response he can muster is an unconscious, barely audible, intake of breath. 

They’re in Thalia’s new house, the small get together to celebrate it’s readiness having ended an hour or so ago. Haron is sitting on the burgundy, velvet, couch, his foot propped up on his leg, having purposefully overstayed his welcome. He’d been less purposeful in his drinking, having haphazardly been using wine as a balm for his heart every time he was confronted with a stark reminder that Thalia isn’t his to love. While he isn’t near drunk, he _is_ the terrible combination of buzzed and desperate.

Laceaga watches from where he’s sprawled in a matching chair, an amused smirk slanting his mouth.

Haron has to lick his lips before he manages to answer.

“And how would you do that, madralee?”

Thalia’s gaze narrows as she continues to stare at him. Her yellow-gold hair looks even brighter than usual, backlit by light from the fireplace, and Haron doesn’t want her to ever look away from him again. Her expression relaxes, eyes going heavy lidded as she gives him one of those almost smiles of hers, but slow and suggestive this time. 

Haron’s eyes are glued to her lips, hungrily taking in the unfamiliar way they’re curving.

“I would kiss you,” she states, voice firm and resolute, but pitched low as if they’re sharing a secret. 

Their gazes lock onto each other as she looms closer- his dark as the night, hers clear blue as a cloudless day in summer. She presses her thumb against his bottom lip,and Haron can _feel_ his pupils expanding as he tries to take in every nuance of this dream come true and burn it into his mind for eternity.

“Touch you till you’re calling out my name; your heart, your mind, your body, all begging for more.”

Thalia slides her thumb from its resting place, fingertips digging into the delicate skin on his face, grip going tight and punishing.

“Then I would leave you here, and take Laceaga upstairs so he can fuck me till I can no longer walk.”

Her voice had gone flinty, the indifferent mask Haron knows so well shuttering over the mesmerizing glimpse of the warmth within, hidden not only from Haron, but the entire world. Except one. 

Haron’s eyes go wide, and when he hangs his head, she lets go of him, standing straight as though she has an arrow for a spine. 

“Would you really?” he asks. “Would you really be so cruel to me, madralee?”

“Yes.”

She answers immediately and without inflection, and Haron’s hands clench into fists, as he continues to stare unseeingly at the plush upholstery. 

But… is it cruelty, or his one chance to grasp for more? He’d be fed breadcrumbs, but isn’t that better than starving? Isn’t a single glimpse of paradise to treasure in his memory for the rest of his days, better than an endless, empty horizon? And if he can impress, if he can discover how to entice her, as she does him simply by existing- maybe he will earn her favor, maybe he will win a place by her side.

Haron glances up at her through his eyelashes, a small smile growing on his lips.

“In that case, madralee, I believe you shall have to show me the error of my ways, because I see only an opportunity.” Sliding his arm along the back of the couch as he leans closer to her, Haron’s smile grows into a grin, “Perhaps, I simply need to apply my tongue in another way.”

The thrill of triumph races through Haron’s veins when Thalia’s lips purse, a tiny breath of air exhaled from her nose. Subtle as her tells are, he’s an assassin for a reason- they both know she wanted to laugh.

Laceaga finally speaks up from behind them.

“Watching her break you will be entertaining, Milirose.”

Haron doesn’t even glance at him.

“I’m ready, madralee,” he scoots forward on the couch, tilting his head up to look at her eye to eye, “Will you teach me my lesson?”

  
Slowly, Thalia lifts her hand, caressing the side of his face before sliding it into his hair. 

Haron’s eyes had closed the moment she touched him, although they snap open as she steps into the space between his legs. Fingers tightening, Thalia pulls on his hair, drawing his head back and Haron’s body arches as he’s forced to drag in a deep breath in an attempt to ease a sudden wave of dizziness as his mind and body try to come to terms with what’s happening. Not that it’s any use. All his longing is raging forth from the depths he buried it in, a tsunami of desire threatening to undo him at the first warm brush of her skin.

His mouth opens, her name a whisper on his lips.

“Thalia.”

He so rarely calls her by her name, and at the moment he doesn’t remember why, because it’s lovely, and also makes her pupils expand like pools of spilled ink as she pauses, poised in his lap.

“Are you sure about this, Haron?” she asks softly. 

She leans in, running her nose along his jaw, “If I have my way,” her lips brush against his ear, and he can feel them curl into a smile, “This will hurt.”

  
Haron closes his eyes and finds that he doesn’t care. He doesn’t bewan’na care. He wants her so badly it feels like his brain is about to melt and puddle out of his ears. He wants her so badly a fine-edged shiver started in his chest the moment she stepped close, radiating outward till he’s quivering like a plucked harp string at the very thought of her pulling away or drawing nearer. 

In the midst of the siren’s call of his desire, Haron goes still, opening his eyes as he abruptly realizes-- he can give her what she wants. He can give her something Laceaga never would. Something the prideful, combative, scout, _can’t_.  
  
His breath goes shallow as he pulls against her hold just enough to cause the cords of muscle in his neck to tense, tilting his chin in a blatant entreaty.

“Please,” he breathes, he whispers, he _begs_.

Thalia’s grip on his hair tightens painfully enough to bring tears to his eyes, and then her mouth is on his, warm, wet, and demanding, and the hope that had been only a glowing ember in Haron’s chest, ignites into a flame.

  
Thalia kisses like she does everything else, thoroughly, intensely, and with lots of biting. 

A cut off cry bursts from his throat the first time her teeth close around his ear lobe, his entire body arching beneath her. 

She chuckles, warm and humid against his skin, lips skating across his jawline and back to his mouth where he eagerly awaits her. She kisses him again but with less force this time and Haron rushes to replace her passion with his own, sucking in sharp breaths through his nose to fuel it, still shivering and already so, so, close to being completely wrecked. If he had enough presence of mind left, he might be embarrassed, reacting like a virginal child, but all he has is the pit in his stomach screaming for more, for as much as it can get, a gaping maw of desire going mad at the first taste on his tongue. 

Thalia slides her hand down from his hair, thumb brushing against his ear and eliciting a small moan that Haron just manages to keep behind his lips. She wraps her fingers around his throat, grip firm, but not harsh, fingers keeping his chin tilted back, keeping his neck bared to her. Haron’s half-hard erection snaps to attention so quick he grunts, hips moving unconsciously as he blinks through another rush of dizziness. 

Thalia hums into his mouth, a sound that’s half amused, half smug, her thumb brushing back and forth along the delicate skin on the side of his neck, where Haron knows she can feel the quick, staccato of his racing heartbeat under her fingertips.

Thalia pulls back and Haron whines shamelessly as he tries to chase her lips. Her palm is intimately cupping his throat, one of the most vulnerable places on his body and Haron suddenly feels as though she’s holding his very heart in her hands and despite how it pounds so hard it almost hurts, he immediately surrenders. His shoulders relax, head reclining to rest on the back edge of the sofa, intensely aware of his pulse bumping against the underside her hand with every racing beat. 

She leans back down, and she’s so warm compared to him, Haron can feel her approach, unable to hold back a gasp as she noses aside the collar of his jacket to softly press her teeth into the side of his neck, barely a bite, just above his shoulder before pulling back again.

“I feel like I’ve caught a rabbit,” she says, her fingertips pressing in a little tighter, “If I eat you all up, what does that make me?”

He’s still trying to filter the words through the haze of cottony desire that’s blanketed his mind, when Laceaga’s voice cuts through it like a scythe.

“Probably a monster,” the scout chuckles, the admiring tone in his voice in juxtaposition with his response.

Before Haron can untangle the complicated roil of emotion rising in him at how he feels about being seen like this, by Laceaga of all people, Thalia rolls her hips in his lap. 

Haron _chokes_ , a strange, startled, noise that’s half whining groan, half cough, throat working frantically as he tries to catch his breath under Thalia’s firm grip, his hands flying to her hips to anchor himself to her, to the moment, to his very sanity.

Thalia continues her ministrations, rocking in his lap as she hums in agreement.

“I think it’s better to be a monster than anything else. Monsters have more fun.”

She leans forward so that her breasts brush against his chest and Haron’s entire body goes rigid underneath her, the muscles in his neck standing out as he breathes in sharply, only just managing to keep from tearing out of her grip to crush her to him and never, ever, let go.

“What do you think, Haron?”

His tongue, usually so silver and quick, feels like its weighted down with a mouthful of sugar-thick honey. Haron swallows thickly to unstick it from the roof of his mouth, and tries to wrangle enough concentration from her softness and the building heat between their bodies to remember how to use it to frame sounds and push air. All things he can do, and usually does, without a single thought given to the process, and not much given to the words themselves either. But in the face of his desperate desire and yearning heart, it feels foreign, like there’s only a sliver of him left, and everything is Thalia and how she makes him feel.

“I think,” he huffs, “you’re an angel.”

She laughs, a low, throaty chuckle that pierces through the fog of passion in his head with a sudden swoop of emotion Haron feels all the way down to his toes. His body starts to tremble again, fingers tightening on her hips as he realizes he can fall farther in love with her. He doesn’t have time to process it before she’s responding. 

“I’ve heard stories that say angels have 6 sets of wings, all covered with eyes. I wish I could look that intimidating.” 

Haron doesn’t even try to formulate a response, and then her lips are on his, tongue licking into his mouth and roving against his teeth before she captures his tongue, sinking her teeth in till he makes a noise that’s part arousal, part alarm. She’s smiling against his mouth when her strong fingers start undoing the buttons on his jacket, gripping the lapels of his shirt and yanking, sending buttons flying every which way, some plunking softly against the couch cushion, others clinking harshly against the wood floor. 

When Thalia’s warm hands press against his chest and start to slide down, Haron’s eyes go wide, stomach dipping under her hands as he gasps, wondering just how far she’s going to go, and how much more he can take. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s the most alive part of his body, his breath catching every time he presses up against the heat between Thalia’s legs. 

“Madralee,” he pleads, “Thalia, please.”

A very small part of his mind is screaming, telling him he shouldn’t give in, at least, not yet, but he doesn’t have enough control left to hold back. Haron’s grip on Thalia’s hips is vice-like and undoubtedly bruising because he feels as vulnerable as if she had torn _him_ open, and he’s going to fly apart just like those buttons if he lets go, fly apart so violently and so completely that he’ll never be able to put himself back together.

“Yes? What is it, Haron?”

Her voice is so gentle, so kind, dread surges up from his gut and Haron has to blink back tears.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispers.

Thalia goes still and when he opens his eyes again, Haron finds her staring at him. He can’t read anything at all in her gaze, and he has to close his eyes against the emptiness.

“Let me stay with you, please, madralee.”

When he opens his eyes again, he finds she’s still looking at him, head tilted just slightly, brows puckered in a tiny furrow, another expression he’s never seen directed at him- something curious, perhaps even interested. He doesn’t even dare to breathe.

  
“I’m going to do as I wish,” she finally responds.

“Yes,” he agrees immediately, gaze locked on hers.

His chest is aching, all the tension he’s holding in it, like bands of iron around his middle.

Thalia hums as she regards him with hooded eyes. 

“Will _you_ do as I wish, as well?”

She rolls her hips in a more decisive fashion, voice a seductive purr, a sound he’s _absolutely_ never heard from her before, a sound that was unimaginable a moment ago. Haron groans, a senseless, utterly shameless noise dredged up from deep in his chest as his hips instinctively tilt up and his head tilts back, his body reacting to her desire without a single conscious thought. He barely catches the slight hitch in Thalia’s breath, his cock twitching underneath her as a small thrill of triumph brings back portion of his awareness.

It might be a minuscule reaction, but he caused it- him and only him.

Thalia grabs his hair, pulling till they’re nose to nose, still rolling her hips in his lap as their breath mingles together.

“Will you come when I call? Let me have my way with you? Fulfill my every desire?” 

Her eyes are gleaming black magnets framed in blue, and Haron can’t look away as he opens his mouth, drawing in a breath for the most important words, the most _true_ words, he’s ever spoken in his life.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he breathes, he answers, he _vows_.

Thalia hums, eyes narrowing, lips turning up in her signature, almost, smile.

“And what if I tell you,” she releases her hold on his hair, “… to go home?”

Her voice doesn’t change, which makes the words all the more devastating. Haron goes utterly still as a bitter chill rushes up from the pit of his stomach, filling his chest and transforming his heart into a chunk of ice. He swallows down a painful, shivering, breath, the memory of her smile against his skin, the words, ‘this will hurt,’ echoing through his head again and again and again, till he blinks and a tear drops, unbidden, from the corner of his eye.

“Ah,” he finally manages to say, as he hurriedly wipes it away with the back of his hand.

He clenches his hands into fists to hide their trembling, ducking his head as he tries to pull his composure up and over his wounds.

“I suppose you did warn me.”

Haron can’t hide how his voice is trembling, words stiff and stilted with anguish.

There’s a brief silence, broken by Laceaga’s low, rumbling, laughter, and Haron flinches, heart shattering in his chest, the shards embedding themselves in his lungs and ribs and making it hard to breathe.

Stiffly, Haron shifts, still underneath Thalia, “If you please, mad-”

His voice catches and he stops breathing to keep from choking on the sob that’s stuck in his throat.

Thalia doesn’t move. Not even her expression moves.

But then she puts more of her weight on him, relaxing out of her normally austere posture, and Haron squeezes his eyes closed because he _can’t_. He can’t take any more.

“Thal-” 

“I didn’t tell you to leave.”

Her voice is softly defiant, almost _petulant_ , and Haron’s eyes snap to hers. Laceaga is obviously as shocked as he is, his snickering abruptly cutting off.

“Why would I throw away someone who adores me so shamelessly? Who’s promised to please me?” Thalia caresses Haron’s cheek with gentle fingertips, smiling softly, but he just sits there rigid and wide eyed. “I didn’t tell you to leave,” she says once more, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

When she pulls back, she’s smiling wider than he’s ever seen and Haron’s heart warms back up and cautiously starts beating in his chest again. He slowly lifts his hand to cup her face and she turns to press a kiss to his palm. A choked, disbelieving laugh bursts out of him, and he finally leans forward, his other hand rising to cup her face completely as Haron kisses her the way he’s always, _always_ , wanted to. 

Thalia's lips purse into a smug smile when he pulls back. Haron brushes his thumbs across her cheekbones, vaguely wondering if he should be worried that she looks so self-satisfied, but he can't find even a shadow of worry within him. A tentative but steadily growing joy that he feels completely entitled to, is all that he has right now as he looks at her. Her pleasure is his pleasure, and now that he has her in his arms, there's nothing he can't do, nothing they can't handle. 

She grasps one of his hands, squeezing it in both of her much smaller ones.

“I’m going to keep you and Laceaga both, and we’re going to have so much fun together.” 

With that Thalia dismounts from his lap, and walks to the staircase, leaving Haron staring after. 

Fun… together? Before he can come to an understanding, she goes on.

“But I must do as I said. So you will be left to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Thalia turns to Laceaga, “Come, I’m sure you have plenty of energy to work off.”

The scout stands to his feet, so solid and tall he blocks nearly all the light from the fireplace. Haron looks him in the eye. 

Laceaga looks… amused. Still. 

As Thalia heads upstairs with a single, inscrutable backward glance, the air around them takes on an oily, ominous, quality. 

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Laceaga states simply. “I’ll give you a week, and if you’re still capable of running, you’ll be tearing out of here, the whites of your eyes showing. Not that it will help you any.”

Haron rocks back on his heels, hands casually stuffed into his pockets as he grins widely, “So you say. Just remember I convinced her within the span of minutes, of my worthiness.”

Laceaga’s expression doesn’t waver, “Did you? Because to me, it looks like _she_ , convinced _you_. But, who knows, maybe you really will enjoy being her plaything.”

Haron opens his mouth, but Laceaga’s already half way up the stairs, and he’s not about to yell after him. 

He scoffs as he rearranges the pillows on the couch and lays down. 

Laceaga is the one who has no idea what he has. It was probably him that put the ridiculous notion she’s a monster, in Thalia’s head. Just imagining her truly believing that makes Haron furious. Being powerful and demanding does not make one a monster, and he hopes to get the chance to encourage Thalia to see herself differently- in a more generous and loving way, as he does. 

As he shifts, trying to get comfortable, indistinct, but rhythmic noise starts from upstairs, and Haron grits his teeth, hurrying to put a pillow over his head, wrapping an arm around it to keep it firmly in place. He doesn’t want to hear that, doesn’t want to even _think_ about it. The idea of sharing Thalia at all is agonizing. But if that is what he must endure, then he shall. 

The future is not set in stone, and despite how Haron may wish Thalia would drop everything to be with him, he knows change can come slow and subtle, as well as quick and decisive. He’ll put all his considerable resources into wooing her completely, that is for certain. 

Laceaga’s days are numbered, Haron thinks to himself. 

He doesn’t sleep much that night, but when he does there’s a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This whole idea came from hearing the phrase, ‘Bottled love is poison,’ which made me think of poor Haron, trying to bottle up his feelings if MC chooses someone else, and how that might affect him and have him acting in more and more desperate ways as he gets closer to what he wants. Whether or not it winds up poisoning him is up to the reader to decide.
> 
> Loving Thalia just might be a toxic endeavor- bottled or not.

Haron meets Laceaga’s eyes from across the room as he steps over the threshold of the dining room. 

The man is shirtless, muscles bunched around his shoulders as he bows between Thalia’s legs. She’s laying on the edge of the glossy, dark table, legs wrapped around Laceaga’s head, heels digging into his shoulders, as she rides his mouth. With his arms outstretched like a supplicant’s on either side of her, Laceaga grips the edge of the table, and still holding Haron’s gaze- he smirks. 

He smirks wide enough that Haron can see the curve of it beyond Thalia’s cunt, the scouts eyes bright with smug pride. Although, when Thalia makes an irritated noise and jerks him closer with a sharp pull of her leg, his attention snaps back to her, a pleased purr rumbling in his chest.

Before he can come to terms with what is happening, Thalia tips her head back, then arches her back so she can look at him, standing in the doorway.

“Haron,” she greets him.

She’s wearing a short, silken nightgown, black as a new moon night, everything about her warm and languid. Her voice, her body language- she’s utterly at ease right here in this moment, and Haron feels a vicious sting of envy that it is Laceaga that brought her to this, along with the heady thrill of being allowed to be a part of it, compounded by the fact that he should not be allowed to be a part of it. 

This is not how things are done. This isn’t normal, or fair, perhaps it isn’t even good, but Haron still wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. Laceaga, is of no more concern to him than a pet snake, because nothing, and no one, is going to keep him from Thalia. Nothing but the woman herself. 

But the woman herself is holding out her hand toward him, the corner of her mouth quirked in what counts as a smile on her face, and Haron bounds forward. 

She props herself up on her elbows, Laceaga still captured in the crook of her legs, and Haron is surprised when the angle she’s pulling him indicates she wants him to join her on the table. 

Haron sits on the edge before sliding closer, a brief, childish, sort of thrill as his shoes hit the tabletop, making him chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Thalia asks, as she pulls him into place.

Acting as a chair, Haron sits behind her, shoes flat on the table as she reclines between his legs still enjoying Laceaga’s ministrations. Haron’s distracted for a moment, his height giving him what would be a spectacular view, if only there were two of him and none of Laceaga. Although, Haron doesn’t think he’d want to share very much with anyone, even himself. 

Remembering he was asked a question, Haron finally answers.

“It’s just that out of everything, it felt most strange to put my feet on the table.”

Thalia hums what might be a laugh, that’s cut off in a short, sharp inhale. 

A small furrow sits between her brows as she narrows her eyes at Laceaga, who is looking up at her with that same amused twinkle in his eye. Her legs tighten until the scout’s windpipe is undoubtedly cut off, and likely his blood flow as well. Haron is impressed.

“I told you, no flicking.”

Her tone is even and controlled, like she’s stating a fact she chose at random, albeit, with a firm intensity, as though encouraging a child to remember it. Which isn’t far from the truth as far as Haron’s concerned. 

Laceaga’s eyes go unfocused and hazy, and he groans against Thalia’s cunt in a way that makes her eyelids droop into a heavy, hooded look, although she doesn’t otherwise react. After a moment, she releases her stranglehold, relaxing back against Haron’s body, as Laceaga sucks in a deep breath through his nose.

The scout makes an absolutely obscene, wet, slurping noise as he returns to his duties, and Haron’s dick, which had been aroused at the first sight of Thalia, throbs, heavy and hot where it’s pressed up in the crease between his hip and thigh. By the sea, what he would do to trade places with the man right now. Haron’s fingers twitch, and mouth waters at the very thought of it, but he swallows and lets the fantasy slide away into the night.

He dips his head, pressing a chaste kiss to Thalia’s cheek, right below her ear. She doesn’t make any response, positive or negative, that he can discern, so he continues, but it isn’t till he nibbles on a cord of muscle that runs along her neck that she responds, a tiny sway toward him, that he gets any inkling of what she prefers. 

He presses his teeth down more firmly, and nearly groans with pleasure himself when she hums, tilting her head to give him better access. 

As her neck becomes thoroughly ravished, Haron’s eyes are drawn a little farther down, to the curve of her breasts, her nipples veiled, but visible, behind the silk of her night dress. Daringly, he wraps his arms around her, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts, and Thalia chuckles knowingly in his arms. 

Abruptly, she releases Laceaga and sits up, sliding out of Haron’s embrace and peering up at Laceaga from her knees on the tabletop.

“Mmm,” she hums, “You look good with my juices on your face.”

Laceaga makes a show of licking his chops, chuckling darkly, “Of course I do, mysaora’a. Do you want a taste?”

Apparently, she does, because she kisses him, a downright filthy mess of biting and licking and sucking, that Haron finds difficult to watch and yet can’t look away from.

He’s always found it hard to look away from Thalia- unless he needed to be watchful in order to keep her safe. But in a room with no threats, his gaze is helplessly locked on her. The little quirk of her mouth, the flaxen yellow of her hair, so much more vivid than Duliae’s washed out color, how deceptively delicate she looks. surrounded by warrior elves.

Thalia hops down and has Laceaga lean against the side of the table, legs spread wide. 

She goes to her knees, and Laceaga’s hands tighten where he’s gripping the edge. 

Haron watches, still not sure what he’s supposed to be feeling. But Thalia seems to be enjoying herself, humming as she unbuckles Laceaga’s belt, and undoing his trousers. When she calls him over, Haron doesn’t hesitate, even when she tugs him to his knees. 

“Undo your belt.”

He keeps his eyes on her as she absently licks at the head of Laceaga’s cock, her gaze intent on Haron’s hands as he slides the black embossed leather through his belt loop, then tugs till it unhooks from the buckle, letting it loosen till it hangs open around his hips. 

“Keep going.”

Haron unbuttons his waistband, then his fly, his heart quickening with every button undone. Thalia reaches out, pulling back his fly and smirking when a pair of red silk shorts are revealed.

“Do you always match your underwear to your shirt?” she asks, chuckling.

“They always match the outfit,” he smiles. “You never know when a beautiful woman might want a peek.”

Thalia smiles as she runs a finger down the line of his cock and Haron goes quiet, focusing on her touch. She returns her grip to Laceaga, fingers gently running up and down the reddened skin of his cock, although her gaze stays focused on Haron. 

“Show me.”

He slides his hand into his underwear, pre-cum smearing and staining the silk as he pulls his cock out. It’s still only half hard, although it’s growing rapidly under Thalia’s attention.

“Show me how you like to be touched.”

Haron smirks at her as he idly touches runs his fingertips along his length, copying Thalia’s ministrations on Laceaga.

“Well, I like a bit of moisture with my touching, madralee.”

“I see,” she says, considering him with hooded eyes.

She gets to her feet and Laceaga makes an irritated noise that has Thalia stopping in place and fixing him with a thousand yard stare. 

“If you’re impatient, you can always just jerk yourself off, Laceaga,” she says after a tense moment.

“I’m not that impatient, mysaora’a.”

“Not impatient? Perhaps then, you were being greedy. You want more, and more, and more, like the rapacious wolf you are.” A smile quirks the corner of her mouth, “A lesson in generosity might be in order.” She prowls closer, carding her fingers through the roots of his hair till they’re tangled in deep. “Does my wicked wolf need to be reminded what happens when he displeases me?”

“As you wish.”

Her fingers twist, and pull, hard enough for the scout to grunt as his head is yanked to the side, and Thalia’s teeth latch on to his ear. Laceaga releases a pained hiss, eyes squeezed shut, but his hips arch up off the table’s edge, his erection utterly unflagging in the midst of his distress. 

For a brief moment, Haron thinks Thalia is going to wrench her head to the side and tear a chunk of flesh from the man, and he wonders if she considered it, before she finally releases him. 

Keeping Laceaga’s hair in her grip, she licks and kisses the bloody, red, arch that now embellishes his bone white ear.

“A reminder then,” she says as she pulls away. “One that will be reinforced by all the attention such a wound will draw.”

Laceaga’s pupils are blown wide, his only response, a punched out groan- his hand twitching toward his cock before he places it back on the table top.

“Good boy,” Thalia smiles at him.

The scout finally manages a smirk, “Only for you, Thalia.”

Thalia finally returns to her former task, turning to a narrow side table that holds a collection of condiments and retrieving a bottle of oil. 

Haron has to work to keep his breathing under control when she pours the oil into her cupped hand. 

He’d been too interested in Thalia’s actions to be jealous as he watched her discipline Laceaga, and while he hadn’t been aroused by the sight, it hadn’t caused his current arousal to abate. 

Thalia looks pleased, a small smile on her lips as she wraps her fingers around his shaft. 

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Haron closes his eyes and tries to think of anything other than how good it feels to be touched by her warm hand, the callouses she’s earned from her new life, contrasting with the heavenly softness of her palm. 

He’s almost glad when she stops after only a few strokes. It’s so easy to surrender to her, to lose himself in her and simply let his body react as it wills.

“Now that you’re comfortable- show me,” Thalia says as she releases him and returns her ministrations to Laceaga.

Haron obeys, wrapping his hand around his cock. He watches her as intently as she’s watching him, pulling, his palm gliding along his skin, and the skin gliding along his shaft in a delicious interplay of friction and fluidity. Despite the sensation, it is still only a footnote in Haron’s fascinating study of Thalia. 

Because just watching him made Thalia’s pupils dilate so quickly it looked like they might swallow the color of her eyes completely, a flush high on her cheeks, her body displaying all the hunger Haron had never truly believed he’d ever get to see directed at himself. 

It sets his heart racing far more than the familiar touch of his own hand. 

He’s never in his life, wanted someone to want him so much, never in his life wanted something so badly at all- everything he could ever have wanted was always within his reach. Perhaps, that’s why all his wits seem to forsake him whenever Thalia is near, his self-control a fraying rope, spiraling into oblivion. 

From the beginning she affected him, but despite his every attempt to sway and impress her in turn, Thalia remained mysterial and serene- the moon to his riptide. Until now. 

Now, she reacts, now she desires, and now Haron has a path to her heart, crooked and winding as it may be. 

Haron raises his left hand, fingertips gently tracing the line of Thalia’s lips, wrapped around Laceaga’s cock. She flicks out her tongue, brushing against the pad of his finger, and Haron unconsciously licks his bottom lip in response. 

Slowly, giving time for her to order him otherwise, he wraps his hand around hers as she strokes Laceaga. 

Thalia shifts, her eyes going impossibly darker, a moan catching in her throat, so Haron continues.

Leaning forward, he kisses the corner of her mouth before licking his way inside, wrapping his lips around Laceaga’s cock as he meets Thalia’s tongue with his own. 

Warm, trembling, fingers cup his face, and Haron blinks rapidly as Thalia pulls off Laceaga’s cock to press gentle, kisses to Haron’s spread lips in between breathless utterances his name. 

“Haron… by the heart, you look gorgeous,” she murmurs against his mouth.

She kisses her way down his throat and Haron opens wider, allowing Laceaga’s cock to slide fully into his mouth. 

He’s done this once before, just to try it, and it’s what he remembers, although Laceaga is irritatingly large. But, it doesn’t bother Haron. Flesh is just flesh, and Laceaga’s cock is only important because it belongs to Thalia, along with the rest of the man, and Haron, and perhaps, all of Gha’alia. 

When Thalia pulls back and sees him with Laceaga’s cock in his mouth, she makes a noise somewhere near a whimper, a wavering, choked sound that she doesn’t seem to be aware of making. Her teeth look in danger of cutting into her bottom lip, as she slips her fingers between her thighs to press against her cunt, eyes closing and body shuddering against that simple ministration. 

She opens her eyes, and a thrill goes through Haron at the look in them. She’s the one helplessly aroused this time, and he shivers at the sight, fighting off the urge to withdraw from Laceaga and focus on her. 

Before his self control breaks, Thalia surges forward to help him, lips and tongue brushing against his, as they glide up and down Laceaga’s cock, the scout himself, gripping the edge of the table so tight his knuckles are white, the table joints creaking in protest. 

Feeling like he’s going to go mad if he doesn’t touch her, Haron slides his hand up Thalia’s thigh, groaning at how the heat of her intensifies the closer he gets to her core. 

She spreads her legs for him, and he has to pause and pull off of Laceaga, unable to concentrate on anything besides this fantasy come to life as his fingers brush against the hair covering her sex, and then finally, blissfully, along the slick line of her folds. 

“Bewan,” he whispers, “you’re so wet, so-”

Haron is absolutely not thinking as he pulls Thalia into his lap, propping his hand on his leg so he doesn’t have to stop running his fingers along the plush warmth of her labia, as he buries his face against her chest. Thalia is as eager as he is, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, before she tilts her head, and opens her mouth, taking Laceaga back inside her.

Haron shifts just enough to watch her, as he strokes down over her clit, dipping the tip of his finger between her folds before sliding back up to do it all over again. Thalia doesn’t stutter in her movements, but her breathing quickens and she moves slowly, like she’s caught in a dream. 

A smug smile lifts Haron’s lips at her difficulty concentrating, and it only grows as Laceaga curses under his breath. 

“Thalia- bewan, you’re killing me. Let me move.”

Thalia hums as though she’s considering his demand, and Haron snickers.

Laceaga curses again, his hips moving in tiny, aborted, movements as he fights to keep himself under control. The table gives a truly alarming groan as he grips it even tighter.

“Please,” he growls.

A soft, happy, sigh escapes Thalia’s lips, and Haron’s cock twitches against her thigh as her juices drip down his hand and along his wrist.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Thalia gently presses up against Haron’s chin, till his lips are lined up with the head of Laceaga’s dick. 

If he’s upset by this turn of events, Laceaga doesn’t show it. In fact, the signs of arousal aren’t diminishing in the least, his pupils blown out, breathing heavy, his large, red, cock, still standing erect and weeping. 

Haron opens his mouth, and Thalia whines as she releases his chin to cup his throat, her other hand going to his shoulder to steady herself. 

Another rush of arousal drips over Haron’s fingers as Laceaga reaches out, taking his chin in hand, his thumb running gently from the corner of Haron’s mouth down to the edge of his jaw. 

Laceaga’s other hand is on his cock, and when he guides it between Haron’s lips, Haron slides a finger to Thalia’s opening, easing inside her just as slowly Laceaga is easing inside him, and feeling intensely connected to her as it all happens. 

He’s part of Thalia’s world now, he can feel it in a way that transcends even the heady and addictive physical sensations. He can feel it in a way he’ll never be able to put into words. It’s like the lifting of a veil, it’s like being bound with wire, it’s like those blissful, hallucinogenic moments between life and death when being deprived of breath, it’s like none of those things, and all of those things.

Thalia’s fingernails are digging into the meat of his shoulder hard enough for Haron to feel the crescent moon shaped bite as they sink beneath his skin. He keeps fucking into the silky heat of her as Laceaga’s cock pushes past Haron’s gag reflex, the scout groaning as Haron’s throat flutters around him. 

“Never thought I’d get the chance to fuck a Milirose,” the scout rasps.

Haron can’t exactly scoff, so he rolls his eyes, but he can’t stay irritated for long. 

Laceaga might be moving with far more gentleness than Haron would think him capable of, but he doesn’t stop, and soon he’s hilted in Haron’s throat, muttering curses under his breath while his large, work-rough, hands hold him in place. 

Thalia places biting kisses along Haron’s ear, as she cups his throat like she had the night when all of this started.

“Seeing your throat swell with Laceaga’s cock is the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen,” she murmurs hoarsely. “By the sea, you are gorgeous. I am going to fuck you in every way a person can be fucked.”

Haron groans, unable to stop the roll of his hips at the thought, and Thalia laughs breathlessly against his ear.

“Look at you. You are perfect for this, aren’t you? I can’t wait to see the look on your face the first time you sink into me.”

His cock throbs as her words penetrate the fog of lust in his brain, and Haron very much wishes he could say something, even if it was only enthusiastic agreement, or begging, which are the only feelings he could possibly feel at having her voice frame one of his most potent fantasies. 

His imagination is very capable of taking off with such a fantasy, and Haron slides another finger inside Thalia’s mesmerizing warmth to distract himself from his own arousal. 

Thalia hums appreciatively before ducking down and placing a biting kiss directly on his larynx.

Haron chokes and swallows, and Laceaga groans, pressing deeper inside.

“You’re so gorgeous together, so lovely,” Thalia says.

She sucks one of Laceaga’s balls in her mouth and the scout’s hand flutters as he reaches down to touch her, but retreats at the last moment. 

Instead he grabs Haron’s head with both hands, pulling him even farther onto his cock before pulling all the way out. Haron coughs, but doesn’t have time for much more before Laceaga shoves his way past Haron’s lips, grunting as Haron’s throat constricts around him in a choked off cough. 

“Bewan,” he mutters, as he starts to fuck Haron’s throat in earnest, hips thrusting as he holds him still. 

Thalia’s hand slides farther up Haron’s throat, the arch between her thumb and forefinger pressing up below his jaw. 

Haron can’t breathe and Laceaga freezes in place with a wavering groan. Achingly slowly, he starts to ease his way past the press of Thalia’s hand, and Haron’s eyes start to water as he struggles not to gag as his body protests his lack of air. Before he can start to worry, Thalia releases her hold and Haron draws in a deep breath through his nose. 

Thalia pets his throat, murmuring praise in his ear. 

“Good boy. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” Thalia places a tender kiss on Haron’s throat, “Laceaga, I chose, but you- you, were made for me, weren’t you, Haron?”

A whine tears out of Haron’s throat, and he shudders, eyes closing. It wasn’t what he had imagined when he first set eyes on her, but if he isn’t chosen, isn’t first in her heart, even if his only place is at her feet, he would still choose it for himself. Then he would at least have a chance to claw his way over Laceaga’s love, till it was him at her side. 

Maybe she just needs to be shown what true love looks like, maybe that’s what she’s pursuing in him, even if she doesn’t realize it yet. 

Thalia kisses her way up his throat and then bites his bottom lip, pulling it away from Laceaga’s cock and then releasing it with a lurid, wet, slapping noise.

As she pulls away Laceaga steps closer to Haron, forcing him to hold on to the scout’s muscled thighs to keep his balance. 

Thalia steps behind Laceaga, and without any preparation besides the remnants of oil still coating it, swallows down Haron’s cock. 

Haron cries out around Laceaga, hands scrabbling at the man’s hips and legs as his own hips buck up off the floor. It’s all he can do to hold on as his mind reels under the madness inducing heat of Thalia’s mouth. 

“Mmm… there you go,” Laceaga murmurs.

Every time Haron cuts off a helpless groan, another takes its place as Thalia mercilessly sucks on him till his toes are curling in his shoes. 

Haron desperately keeps trying to pull away, afraid he’s going to cum embarrassingly fast, even as he desperately tries to press deeper because he’s never experienced anything so addictive in his life.

The noises he’s making seem to spur Laceaga faster and faster, till he’s fucking into Haron’s throat with abandon, the muscles in his thighs shifting underneath Haron’s fingers, till he looses his rhythm, hips stuttering as he cums with a guttural cry in Haron’s throat.

Laceaga grabs Haron’s hair and pulls him back just enough so the next spurt of his seed is spread over his tongue. 

“Don’t swallow,” he demands, voice low and rasping.

He pulls out all the way and the last spurt of his seed goes over Haron’s face. 

Haron is too focused on not cumming himself to really care what Laceaga is doing, although he notices, grimacing, when the scout leans down and licks his seed from Haron’s cheek. 

When Laceaga steps away, Thalia is there, meeting Haron’s open mouth in a filthy kiss. 

Haron feels like this should disgust him, but he can’t find anything but relief that it’s Thalia kissing him, not Laceaga, who certainly still seems interested, if the noise he’s making and the way his cock is twitching in Haron’s peripheral vision is anything to go by. 

Once the bitter taste of Laceaga’s seed dissipates, Thalia pulls away and then she smiles at him, a sly thing that sends his heart racing even faster than it already was. 

“You were so good, sweetheart. I’m going to reward you.”

She turns to Laceaga and bids him to sit behind Haron, acting as his chair as Haron did for her earlier, except Thalia has him hook Haron’s legs over his own, spreading him open and leaving him completely exposed.

Haron makes a nervous noise, that morphs into a groan as Thalia takes him back into her mouth. 

This is good, this is only going to be good, he can tell, and Haron tries to prepare himself, even though he’s far too aware of the hopelessness of such a venture when it comes to Thalia. 

Thalia doesn’t stop as she reaches for the discarded bottle of oil, although she doesn’t open it. 

Instead, she presses a finger to Haron’s asshole and even though he was expecting it, he jumps in surprise, feeling the flush rising across his face and chest. 

“Can I fuck you with my fingers?”

Haron doesn’t hesitate to respond, “I told you, madralee- anything.”

“I know, but I want to hear you say it.”

He can do that. Haron is good at giving people what they want, or what they think they want, and even though Thalia challenges him in ways no one else does, this at least is familiar ground for him.

Haron smirks, relaxing back against Laceaga’s body and looking at Thalia from under his eyelashes. 

“I want you to fuck me. I want you to pleasure yourself with me till you are satisfied, and nothing less.”

Thalia’s mouth opens in a pant and she looks like nothing so much as a starving predator as she licks her bottom lip. 

Her fingers are trembling as she grasps the bottle of oil and drips plenty on her fingers, rivulets running unheeded down her hand. She sucks him back down before she touches the ring of muscle and Haron groans, too much of his self-control used up to keep from bucking up into the heat of her to stop it. 

Thalia’s small, warm, fingertip just runs over and over the sensitive skin it not putting any pressure to her touch till he relaxes again. 

Haron’s back arches, his head coming to rest on Laceaga’s shoulder as she breaches him. 

It feels more strange than good, but it’s Thalia. Thalia is touching him, fucking him, in a way no one else ever has and it’s that strange juxtaposition between so good it’s ecstasy, and so bad it’s violation that has him shivering in Laceaga’s hold. 

Soon enough she has two fingers in him, and he can tell she’s searching for that spot that makes men crumble and melt into mewling, beggars. 

Haron is half hoping he doesn’t have that spot when she finds it and Haron’s hips come up off the floor, a high pitched whine tearing out of his throat. 

His hot breath tickling against Haron’s ear, Laceaga chuckles as he holds him still, wrapping a taming arm around Haron’s chest as he holds him still.

Haron barely notices the scout at all as Thalia gives a pleased hum around his cock. He knows he isn’t going to last much longer. He’d thought Laceaga’s presence would be a hindrance, but that hadn’t been the case at all and now there’s simply no way he can last under the onslaught of sensation.

All it takes is a slow drag across that sensitive place inside him, combined with her tongue cupping around him, that devastating pressure slowly building, till the dangling thread of Haron’s self control snaps, and he cries out as he cums, a wave of euphoria so strong it’s almost agony, washing over him.

Haron sags in Laceaga’s embrace, feeling so pleasantly empty he could almost happily pass out, except he could hear Thalia moving and didn’t want to miss a moment of whatever she was going to do next.

He’s partly aroused and partly disgusted as Thalia kisses Laceaga, and he sees his own release drip down the scout’s chin.

Laceaga, for his part had grimaced at first, but didn’t complain and was licking into Thalia’s mouth at the end of it, like he was hoping for more. 

Thalia bites his bottom lip in a warning gesture before pulling away.

Laceaga finally releases Haron’s legs, although he keeps his arm wrapped around Haron’s chest, and Haron is still too sated to find anything uncomfortable and doesn’t complain. 

He’s rewarded for his complacency when Thalia cuddles close, her head resting against Haron’s chest as she wraps her arms around both him and Laceaga. 

After a few minutes she looks up at them, smiling, her eyes hooded.

“That was even better than I had hoped.”

“You haven’t even cum yet,” Laceaga voiced Haron’s own thoughts.

Thalia just shrugged, still looking just as sated as Haron felt.

“The night is still young and so are we,” she’s looking at Haron as she speaks, then flicks her gaze to Laceaga, a teasing, challenging, smile, on her face.

The scout scoffs, and shoves them off his lap, both of them going willingly. Thalia keeps a hold of Haron as they land in a heap, giggling in a way he’s never heard before, but now can’t imagine his life without. 

“I’ll show you the benefits of experience more thoroughly upstairs,” Laceaga growls as he stands to his feet.

“Yes, I’m sure the soft mattress will be easier on your knees,” Thalia continues to tease, making no move to stand.

Haron wraps his arms around her, his heart feeling like it’s soaring somewhere without the rest of his body to hold it down at getting to hold her so tenderly, and hear her tease and laugh. Particularly at Laceaga’s expense.

The look the scout fixes on her is so poisonous Haron would be concerned if he didn’t just experience how whipped the man actually is. 

Sure enough, a moment later it softens into something exasperated and fond. 

It’s with surprising gentleness that Laceaga reaches down, extending a hand to both Haron, as well as Thalia. Once Thalia grasps hold, Haron does as well, still feeling uncharacteristically unsure about how he and Laceaga fit together. 

But it doesn’t exactly feel wrong, as Laceaga reels them both in with an irritating show of strength. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as Haron expects, when he kisses Thalia, and it’s a peculiar blend of revulsion and arousal, when he bites gently at the juncture of Haron’s neck and shoulder.

“What do you say, Milirose, are you ready for round two?” Laceaga asks, a challenging tone to his voice.

Haron wonders if he’s already passed the part of the night where Laceaga expected him to bolt, or if that is yet to come. Still, it’s not like his answer would change, regardless.

“Of course, Laceaga,” Haron responds carelessly as he heads toward the stairs, holding Thalia’s hand and drawing her along with him. “Just watch your step, it would be terrible if you put out your back.”

Thalia giggles again, but also grabs Laceaga’s hand, pulling him along with a soft, warm, smile curving her lips.

“Come, Laceaga, you can show a Milirose how it’s done,” she urges, though she doesn’t need to, the scout following along just as eagerly as Haron is leading.

With that the scout’s mouth tilts into a pleased smirk, his eye catching Haron’s over top of Thalia’s bright head.

Haron is entirely sure he’s had at least as much experience in this arena as Laceaga, if not more, despite their age difference. It’s experience with Thalia that is making the difference at the moment, and Haron has every intention on closing that gap with all speed.

“I’m anxious to see just how well trained you are, Scout Darhal,” Haron says, not needing to add much mockery to his tone, because they both know Laceaga isn’t going to be the one that’s calling the shots tonight, or any other night. 

The scout’s smirk remains, and almost looks a bit fond as he brushes past Haron and enters the bedroom.

“You’ll see,” he promises, utterly comfortable in his submission to Thalia’s whims.

It’s that easy confidence that suddenly brings a rush of vicious hatred barreling through Haron, and before he considers the consequences, he finds himself shoving the scout onto the bed and kissing him. 

This is what Thalia wants, this is what Haron isn’t sure he can give, and he hates that Laceaga can give it, and hates even more that he can honestly enjoy it because it’s more than what Haron can give- or more than he feels he can give. 

Laceaga even fucking moans, his fingers lacing through Haron’s hair to deepen the kiss, and Haron can feel the scout’s cock already growing between them, barely hidden in still undone trousers.  
Haron heard Thalia’s gasp as he’d pounced on top of Laceaga and he can feel the prickle of her regard on the back of his neck, and he tries to use it to spur himself on, letting his tongue slide along Laceaga’s, still unsure if he wants to feel repulsed, or aroused, but feeling neither.

He doesn’t let himself think until he has to pull away to breathe, panting as he stares down at Laceaga. 

Haron still doesn’t find the man remotely attractive, even with his eyes dark, and lips pink and bruised from Haron’s actions. 

It’s Thalia’s warm, fingertips, dripping down his spine that brings the slow, slide of heat back into his veins.

She’s humming, but it’s a thoughtful rather than pleased, sound.

“Perhaps we should get some sleep,” she murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to Haron’s shoulder.

Haron suddenly feels exhausted, even more so then directly after his orgasm.

He flops to the side with a groan of agreement, earning another soft laugh from Thalia, and a grumble from Laceaga.

“All your talk, and now you’re the ones ready for a nap,” he grouses, as he yanks down the covers.

“Shush, Laceaga,” Thalia reproves him softly, as she snuggles down in between them. “Such arrangements as ours require many kinds of energy.”

The scout scoffs, but doesn’t hesitate to shuck his clothes and snuggle close.

Once he’s comfortable, Haron finds himself with both Thalia’s arm and the scout’s huge, warm, hand draped over his side, as they face each other.

Haron gently kisses Thalia good night, and she hums contentedly as her eyes close. 

Laceaga eyes him for a moment but thankfully doesn’t try to kiss him, instead pressing his lips to the top of Thalia’s head and then closing his eyes, his face still buried in her hair.

The warm press of Thalia’s body all along his front and his exhaustion eases any jealousy he might normally feel, and Haron is surprisingly comfortable. So much so, he almost instinctively doesn’t trust the feeling, except Thalia is there, and Thalia wanting him has seemed to translate into Laceaga wanting him as well.

Once the scout’s and Thalia’s breathing evens out in sleep, Haron finally lets himself relax, eyelids drooping as his body sinks into the comfortable mattress.

He still hasn’t decided how to deal with the unexpected development of Laceaga’s interest, but for now he feels like he can trust it enough to sleep. 

Regardless of what else tomorrow brings, with Thalia, Haron will need every bit of cleverness and energy he can obtain. 

The thought makes him smile, and Haron presses closer to Thalia, close enough so that he can feel her breath against his lips. 

He places one last whisper of a kiss on her sleep slack mouth, before slipping into dreams himself.


End file.
